I’m caught up! Now to start tomorrow’s…and do some baking. \ud83d\ude42 I hear I’m a bad influence with this series, but I can’t help it. I love to bake! If my waistline is going to suffer, I’ll have to share!<\/p>\n
Enjoy…<\/p>\n
December 12 <\/p>\n
\u201cMay I join you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Molly looked up as Father Christopher stopped by her chair. It was another snowy Sunday in the Cove, and the store was quiet after the hustle from Saturday. She had taken advantage of the fact that she, Marge and Schrodinger were pretty much the only ones in the store to claim one of the easy chairs and read. A small pot of her favorite Christmas tea and her favorite black rose china cup, along with a plate of lemon shortbread, sat on the table beside her. Behind her, the fire crackled in the large fireplace.<\/p>\n
Now, she smiled, closed her book and put it on the table, then indicated the other chair. \u201cBy all means, Father. Would you like a cup of tea?\u201d<\/p>\n
He sat down. \u201cNot if it means you getting up,\u201d he said, and she grinned.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease. It\u2019s no bother.\u201d Molly closed her eyes and pictured the cup she wanted, sitting on the shelf in the pantry. It was a mug, not a tea cup, with golden Norse runes on it. Father Christopher had once told her the runes said, \u201cDrink in health, drink in peace.\u201d Now, she held out her hand and the mug shimmered into view. She poured him a cup of the tea and handed it to him. \u201cMy gifts are practical ones, remember? As long as it has to do with a kitchen, I can bring it to myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Father Christopher sat back in his chair, a delighted smile on his face. \u201cI think that\u2019s one of the reasons I love the Cove,\u201d he said. \u201cYou see God\u2019s miracles every day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPulling a tea mug from my pantry is hardly a miracle, Father,\u201d Molly said.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, but it is! Anything that makes someone happy is a miracle to me, and to God.\u201d He sipped while she thought about that.<\/p>\n
\u201cI like your version of God, Father,\u201d she said finally.<\/p>\n
\u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n
They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and the shushing of snow against the windows. Marge had turned off the sound system, and it was quiet, like the inside of a church, Molly thought. A church of books. Now there\u2019s a church I could be a part of, she thought, sipping her own tea.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes God like books, Father?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t he?\u201d Father Christopher countered.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. It just seems like a lot of churches don\u2019t seem to like books very much.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThose are churches, not God,\u201d he told her. \u201cGod doesn\u2019t need me or any other priest to speak to you. He talks to you in your heart. Never put your faith in churches, Molly. Listen to your heart and let Him talk to you directly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll put yourself out of business, talking like that, Father,\u201d Molly teased him. \u201cNo one will come to church.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I think I\u2019ll be around for a while.\u201d Father Christopher chuckled. \u201cI\u2019ve got a lot of work to do still, and even in a magical place like the Cove, there\u2019s people who need help. But it\u2019s easier here, that\u2019s for sure. And I like to meet new people.\u201d He put down his mug and leaned over. \u201cPeople like someone to listen to them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd who have you been listening to, Father?\u201d Molly refilled both their cups and handed him his.<\/p>\n
\u201cYoung lovers, hopeful of a Christmas miracle,\u201d he said, his eyes still twinkling. \u201cOld lovers, hopeful of continued happiness. Mothers and fathers, hoping that their children will find what they\u2019re looking for.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know who my secret admirer is,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I do, I\u2019m bound by priest-confessor confidentiality not to tell you,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I think you\u2019ll figure it out before Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope so.\u201d Molly sighed. \u201cI love mysteries, but I\u2019m not good at figuring them out.\u201d<\/p>\n
He patted her on the arm. \u201cYou\u2019re doing fine. Trust me.\u201d When she looked over, he offered her a red envelope, and then got up. \u201cI need to talk to your aunt \u2013 is she in the office?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably,\u201d Molly said. \u201cDon\u2019t forget your tea.\u201d<\/p>\n
Father Christopher took the mug and a few cookies from the plate. \u201cThank you kindly, Miss Molly,\u201d he said, and gave her a stately bow. The liquid in his mug didn\u2019t even slosh. \u201cEnjoy the rest of your afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou too, Father.\u201d Molly watched him wend his way down the aisle to her aunt\u2019s office, the envelope held loosely in her hand. It was heavier than normal, and when she opened it, a beautiful bronze filigreed four-leaf clover ornament slid into her hand, along with the CD and another note.<\/p>\n
\u201cDear Molly, I found this on one of my travels, and knew it had to go on your tree. Maybe someday, we\u2019ll decorate a tree together. I hope you like it. SA\u201d<\/p>\n
SA and I share a fondness for Bing Crosby. It\u2019s just not Christmas until I pull out the Bing CDs. I love this carol.<\/a><\/p>\n